


Carry Me When You Go Forth

by cherrybina



Series: Carry Me [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Age Difference, First Time, M/M, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-15
Updated: 2011-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybina/pseuds/cherrybina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames would have thought that a 16-year-old would be entirely too complicated for his life, but Arthur proves himself to be more than worth the effort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry Me When You Go Forth

**Author's Note:**

> This all started when I wanted to write shameless jailbait porn. I set out to write a filthy five times fic, but somewhere along the way, Arthur and Eames fell in love. This is their story, told in six snapshots.

1.

The diner across the street from Eames' office is always busy, but when it's been weeks since he's visited and he's craving caffeine, it seems like half the city is in the mood for a burger and fries.

“Isn’t this a treat,” Eames hears as he walks inside to find his favorite table mercifully free. The waitress, Alice, walks around the counter with a pot of coffee in hand, following Eames to his booth and filling his cup without needing to ask. “I haven’t seen you here for lunch in ages.”

“You know if I had my way I’d come see you every day,” Eames says. “I’ve had nothing but client lunches for weeks.”

“They’re too classy to eat here?” she teases.

Eames laughs. “I tried to tell my boss there’s no better place in town, but he just won’t listen.”

“Shame you picked today. We’re short staffed and the kitchen is running a little slow, but our favorite regulars get a special rush on their orders,” she says with a wink.

“I knew there was a reason I keep coming back,” he says. “Judy’s not here?”

Alice shakes her head. “She had to go do something at Arthur’s school, but she should be back soon. Now, what can I get for you?”

After Alice leaves with his order, he looks up and sees Arthur watching him from across the diner with a look in his eye Eames has grown accustomed to seeing over the past few months. Arthur spent the summer lounging in a lawn chair in the yard between their houses, listening to his iPod and wearing nothing but a pair of snug fitting denim shorts, lighting up every time Eames decided to relax after work on his back porch. But it didn’t stop there: soon Arthur started knocking on Eames’ door asking if he could mow his lawn, flashing that pretty smile when Eames paid him, asking if there was anything else he needed.

The school year started a few weeks ago and Arthur hasn’t let up. If anything he’s getting more determined every day, finding new ways to push, and flirting with Eames right under his mother’s nose. Eames watches as Arthur crosses the diner and grins at him, like he knows exactly how sinful he looks in his school uniform with his hair curling down over his forehead.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the booth across from Eames.

Eames leans back in his seat. “Hello, Arthur.”

“Do you always come here for lunch?”

“Hardly ever,” Eames tells him. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be in school right now?”

“We had a half-day today because of parent conferences,” Arthur says.

“And fifteen is too young to stay home alone?”

“I’m _sixteen_ ,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes. “My birthday was last month. My mom feels bad because she works a lot and leaves me alone, which means I’m stuck here today for the afternoon so she can spend quality time with me during her shift.” Arthur’s sarcastic tone tells Eames exactly what Arthur thinks of that. “Plus, she thinks I’ll get into trouble if I have too much time to myself.”

Alice returns with Eames’ food, then rushes off to another table with an apologetic smile. Arthur immediately snatches a handful of fries.

“Would you?” Eames asks.

“Hmm?” Arthur says, looking up from the plate.

“Would you get into trouble if you were alone?” Eames asks, as Arthur licks his fingers.

Arthur flashes him a knowing smile when he catches Eames watching, and sucks his fingers into his mouth. “Depends if it’s worth it.”

“Is that so?”

Arthur rests his chin in his hand and licks his lips, all shiny with grease. “Did you have something in mind, Mr. Eames?”

It’s a familiar dance of innuendo and suggestion. Anything more than that is entirely too complicated for Eames’ tastes, but with Arthur smiling at him across the table like the world’s most relentless cocktease and his mother nowhere in sight, Eames can’t resist taking one more step.

He puts his elbows on the table and leans toward Arthur. “I bet I could show ways to get into trouble that you’ve never even dreamed of, and I’d make every one of them worth it.” Arthur’s mouth drops open in surprise, and Eames just leans in even closer, grinning when Arthur mirrors his movement across the table. “I’m going to have a smoke,” he says, and before Arthur can reply, Eames stands up and walks away.

Eames nods at the woman behind the counter before heading out the back door. He’s been a regular here for long enough that the staff lets him use the employee smoking area in the alley behind the diner. It’s a small space just between the dumpsters and the service entrance, but it’s quiet and secluded. Eames inhales deeply on his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs.

When Eames is halfway finished his smoke, he hears the sound of the door opening. The door is blocked from sight where he’s standing beside the dumpsters, but he’s not surprised when Arthur comes around the corner a moment later.

“What are you doing out here?” Eames asks, watching the way Arthur’s trousers cling to his slim thighs as he walks toward him. It’s a warm autumn day, and Arthur isn’t wearing his school sweater, just a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up and a black tie that gives Eames so many terrible ideas.

Arthur smirks at him. “Looking for trouble.”

Eames just raises an eyebrow and takes a drag on his cigarette. They’re in unfamiliar territory now, but Arthur just keeps taking every inch Eames gives him and pushing for more.

“Now what were you going to show me?” Arthur asks, taking another step toward him.

Eames laughs and drops his cigarette, grinding it out with his heel. “You want me to show you something?”

Arthur licks his lips again and makes an obvious show of letting his eyes drop to Eames’ crotch before meeting his gaze. “You said you’d make it worth it.”

“That’s true, I did.”

Eames puts his hand on Arthur’s chest and shoves him back against the wall of the building, just hard enough for Arthur to get the point. Arthur’s eyes go wide with shock, but he doesn’t look scared, even when Eames leans in close. “Do you have any idea what you’re playing with, little boy?”

Eames’ face is just inches away, but Arthur’s gaze doesn’t falter. “I’m not a little boy,” he says, and the note of defiance in his voice goes straight to Eames’ cock.

“Oh no?” Eames keeps his hand on Arthur, but lets his fingers trail down toward his stomach, and Arthur gasps, arching off the wall into Eames’ touch.

“I’m old enough to know what I want.” Arthur’s voice is shaky, but he doesn’t back off an inch, and it’s enough to make Eames ache.

“Tell me, then. What do you want?”

Arthur’s breath hitches when Eames brings his hand even lower, resting his fingers just above the waistband of Arthur’s trousers. Eames has Arthur crowded up against the wall, but there’s nothing holding him there; he could easily push him back and walk away. Instead he stands his ground, looking up at Eames like he’s exactly where he wants to be.

“What do you want, Arthur?” Eames repeats, leaning even closer.

“I want you to touch me,” Arthur says in a breathless rush, without a trace of fear.

Eames grins and braces himself on his forearm against the wall behind Arthur, curling his hand around Arthur’s narrow waist and squeezing gently. “I am touching you.”

Arthur’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a soft noise, and it’s so fucking perfect Eames grips him tighter just to hear Arthur make that sound again. With obvious effort, Arthur opens his eyes and stares at Eames. His face is pink already and his breaths are coming fast and shallow, but he grins, flashing his dimples. “Then I think it’s your turn to tell me what you want.”

And with that, Eames leans in and presses his mouth to Arthur’s, pushing his weight into it and crushing him against the wall. Arthur’s response is immediate; he moans into the kiss and wraps his arms around Eames’ neck, pulling him closer. Arthur kisses sloppy and wet and unpracticed, but his mouth is hot and full of so much promise that all Eames can think is _more_.

Arthur’s hard already; Eames can feel it pressing into his thigh as Arthur ruts against him, but Arthur’s too short and the angle is all wrong, and neither one of them is getting the friction they need. Eames pushes Arthur up the wall, easily cradling his weight with one hand around his waist, and shoves his thigh between Arthur’s legs. Arthur moans and holds on to Eames’ neck when Eames lifts him higher.

“Shh,” Eames whispers, bringing his finger up to Arthur’s lips. “You don’t want everyone to hear you like this, do you?”

“I can’t,” Arthur pants. “Your _hands_.”

Eames wraps both his hands around Arthur’s waist and yanks him forward so his cock rubs along Eames’ thigh. “You like that?”

Arthur moans again, arching back against the wall, but Eames is past the point of caring. His own cock throbs at the feel of Arthur’s skinny thighs locked around his own and the way his hands feel huge on Arthur’s hips, so he guides him into an easy rhythm while Arthur clings on. It only takes a minute before Arthur is gasping into Eames’ neck as his hips stutter helplessly, and Eames realizes he’s close already.

“Look at you, so eager for it,” Eames says, gripping his arse and rocking him back and forth on his thigh. “Are you going to come for me just like this?”

When Eames lets one of his hands slip down under the waistband of Arthur’s trousers, it’s all over. Arthur’s hips jerk and he cries out as he comes, shuddering in Eames’ arms.

He eases Arthur down to his feet gently, and holds him up until he’s sure he can stand.

“Shit,” Eames says, huffing out a laugh of disbelief. He starts to back away, but Arthur tries to pull him back in.

“Wait,” he says clinging onto Eames’ shirt. He looks flushed and sweaty and thoroughly debauched, and Eames wants nothing more than to lean in and rub himself on Arthur’s hot little body until he comes in his own trousers, but they’ve been out here too long already and someone could come through the door any moment.

Arthur’s slumped against the wall, wide-eyed and breathless, and Eames leans back in and cups his chin in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin of Arthur’s cheek. “You’re such a pretty little thing, but getting caught with my hands all over you is not the kind of trouble I had in mind,” he says, backing away and pulling Arthur’s hands off him. “Clean yourself up before you go back inside.”

And with that, Eames walks away, leaving Arthur alone in the alley.

2.

Eames gets called into an extra project at work that keeps him in the office late into the evening every night for a week. The time away from the diner gives him the chance to make a mental list of the many reasons why his sixteen-year-old next door neighbor is entirely too complicated, no matter how lovely he looked pushed up against that wall, soft and young and willing.

Arthur shows up at his door on Saturday, testing all of Eames’ resolve with his pretty smile.

“What are you doing here, Arthur?” Eames asks.

“You haven’t been to the diner all week. How else was I supposed to talk to you?”

Eames crosses his arms over his chest and takes a moment to look Arthur up and down. “You just want to talk, is that it?”

“I think you should let me in,” Arthur says with a cocky grin, ignoring Eames’ question.

Eames chuckles and leans in toward Arthur. “Are you trying to get me arrested?”

Arthur steps even closer, looking up at Eames from under his lashes. “I promise I won’t tell,” he says softly.

All of Eames’ reasons suddenly don’t seem so important anymore, and he opens the door so Arthur can come inside.

Arthur walks into the living room and wanders over to the bookshelf and starts poking round, pulling books off then putting them back without any real purpose.

Arthur’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt rather than that school uniform that’s been part of so many of Eames’ recent fantasies, and his jeans fit him extremely well, a fact which Eames notices when Arthur leans down to look at the books on the lower shelf. Eames knows he’s probably doing it on purpose, but he can’t find it in himself to care, not with Arthur in his house, bending over, giving him a perfect view and flooding his head with possibilities.

“Does your mum know you’re here?” Eames asks.

Arthur looks over at him and shakes his head. “She’s still at work.”

“What do you want, Arthur?”

Arthur straightens up and turns to face him. “Didn’t we already cover this last week?”

“You’re sixteen.”

Arthur scowls. “I’m not a little kid.”

“No,” Eames agrees. “But still very, very young. What would your mother think if she knew why you were here?”

“I don’t care what she thinks,” Arthur says, with a note of defiance in his voice. “I told you, I’m old enough to know what I want.”

“Have you’ve done this before?” Eames asks, moving across the room toward Arthur, the last of his resolve slipping away with every step.

Arthur blushes but doesn’t look away. “I haven’t...”

“Haven’t what?” Eames prods him.

“I haven’t done anything,” Arthur admits in a rush. “Before you.”

Eames closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, Arthur is still there, sixteen years old and fearless, every inch of him untouched, and Eames wants to do _everything_.

Eames takes another step forward, until he’s so close Arthur has to tilt his head up to hold his gaze. “You want me to push you up against the wall and make you come in your trousers again?”

Arthur smiles up at Eames, flashing his dimples. “I want you to take my pants off this time.”

Eames grabs Arthur by the waist and pulls him in for a kiss. Arthur stumbles, but Eames holds him steady with his hands tight on Arthur’s narrow hips. Arthur’s mouth is hot and frantic, and it’s only a moment before he’s moaning into the kiss and rubbing himself on Eames’ thigh.

Eames pushes Arthur back, breaking the kiss and putting some space between their bodies. Arthur makes a sound of protest and tries to lean in for more, but Eames holds him still. Arthur’s hair is curling down over his eyes, and he looks flushed and dazed and so fucking eager.

“I’m going to touch your cock this time,” Eames reminds him. “Make you come with my hand, you want that?”

“Yes,” Arthur gasps, nodding frantically.

“Good.”

Eames walks Arthur toward the couch and Arthur goes easily, dropping down on his back. Eames comes down on him harder than he intends, crushing Arthur’s slight frame into the cushions. Arthur groans into Eames’ neck, squirming as much as he can pinned down by Eames’ weight. Remembering the way Arthur responded to Eames hands on him in the alley, Eames wraps his fingers around Arthur’s wrists and holds them over his head, pressing them into the couch just enough for Arthur to feel it. Arthur’s response is immediate: he bucks his hips and moans, and Eames thinks, _yes_.

Eames wants to keep kissing Arthur like this, wants to feel his skinny little body wiggling under him and see what other noises he can coax out, but he knows there’s not much time before Arthur comes in his trousers again, and he’s determined to get a hand on his cock before that happens.

Eames releases Arthur’s wrists and pulls back so he can look down at him. “No one’s ever touched you like this before?” he asks, stroking the outline of Arthur’s cock through his jeans.

Arthur gasps and tries to arch up, but he’s no match for Eames’ weight pinning him down. “Just you.”

Before Eames can make a move to get Arthur out of his jeans, Arthur starts pulling at Eames’ belt. “Can I - I want to see you.”

Eames has absolutely no objection to that, so he helps Arthur unbuckle his belt and push his own trousers down to his knees. Immediately, Arthur wraps one hand around Eames’ cock.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says in a hushed voice.

Arthur touches him with reverence, stroking his hand down to the base of Eames’ cock, cupping his balls in his hand, running his fingers back up to the head, taking his time to map out every inch. Eames swallows hard and forces himself to keep still as Arthur explores, reminding himself that Arthur’s never done this before, he’s never touched a cock that wasn’t his own.

Eames looks down as Arthur presses his thumb to the bead of precome that’s welling up, smearing it all over the head of his cock. “Do you like it?” Eames asks.

Arthur looks up at him, wide-eyed and full of wonder. “It’s big.”

Eames rolls his hips, pushing into Arthur’s fist. “You make me so hard.”

Arthur smiles up at him, looking delighted. “Yeah?”

Eames chuckles and braces himself one elbow so he can lean close. “It’s all for you,” he murmurs against Arthur’s mouth, fucking into his fist. Arthur groans and his eyelids flutter shut, and _fuck_ , Eames has barely started and Arthur’s already starting to lose control just from touching Eames’ cock.

Eames’ hand is much bigger than Arthur’s, and it covers it completely when he wraps his fingers over Arthur’s, showing him how to stroke. Arthur licks his lips and watches intently as Eames guides his hand, and when when he lets go, Arthur keeps touching him the way Eames showed him.

“Good boy,” Eames breathes, rocking into Arthur’s touch.

Arthur makes a pleased sound at that, biting his lip against a smile, taking instruction so beautifully and flushing from Eames’ praise. He’s eager and obedient and full of so many possibilities Eames is dizzy.

Eames is already close to coming with Arthur’s hand on his cock and Arthur’s body beneath his, everything about him so fucking perfect, but he wants to see Arthur’s face the first time someone touches him, he wants to see how pretty he looks when Eames takes him apart properly.

Eames circles Arthur’s slim wrist with his fingers, stilling his hand. Arthur makes a sound of protest, but lets Eames move his arms over his head, pressing them into the cushions.

“Let’s get you out of these,” Eames says, palming Arthur’s cock through his jeans.

“Yeah,” Arthur gasps, and he sounds so deliciously needy it sends a shiver down Eames’ spine.

Eames works Arthur’s fly open and hooks his fingers in the waistband of his pants. Arthur lifts his hips but keeps his arms where Eames put them, and the promise there is enough to make Eames yank hard, shoving his jeans and underwear down to his knees in one rough movement. He pushes Arthur’s shirt up to his chest, exposing more of his soft, pale skin, and takes a moment just to look. Arthur’s cock is hard and already wet at the tip, and when Eames trails his fingers down his belly, Arthur whimpers and arches up into his touch.

As soon as Eames gets his hand wrapped around his cock, Arthur starts moaning and squirming even more frantically than before. It takes a moment for Eames to realize that Arthur is trying to spread his legs, fighting against his jeans trapping his knees together.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eames says in awe, watching as Arthur’s head falls back and he parts his thighs as far as he can while Eames strokes his cock.

Eames drinks it all in greedily, the pink blush that spreads down Arthur’s face and neck before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt, the frustrated sounds he makes as he tries to open his legs even wider for Eames, the way his whole body shudders as Eames touches him like no one’s ever touched him before.

Eames wants to get Arthur’s jeans all the way off, he wants to see how wide he can spread his legs, see how far he can bend, but Arthur is shaking already, and Eames wants to give it to him, he wants to watch Arthur fall apart.

Eames leans in and kisses him, swallowing Arthur’s needy whimpers. “Are you ready to come for me?” he asks when he pulls away.

“Yes,” Arthur moans, wrapping his arms around Eames’ neck and holding tight. “Please.”

Eames can’t say no, not when Arthur pleads with him like that, so he lines up their cocks and wraps his hand around them both. Arthur clings on as Eames jerks them together, and it only takes a few strokes before Arthur comes all over himself with a groan.

Eames gives him a moment to catch his breath, and as soon Arthur offers a lazy smile, Eames leans in and thrusts into the slick mess on Arthur’s belly. Eames isn’t going to last, not with the feel of Arthur’s skinny arms holding him close, his body still shivering beneath him as Eames rubs his cock in Arthur’s come.

Arthur rubs his soft cheek against the stubble on Eames’ face. “I want to feel your come on me,” he confesses breathlessly, and it’s all over. Eames presses Arthur down and shoves against him hard, coming all over him.

After a few moments, Eames realizes he’s crushing Arthur into the couch, so he pulls back and looks down. Arthur is a wreck, his lips red and swollen, shirt pushed halfway up his chest, covered with come. Eames loves the way Arthur’s body feels under his, and he loves the way Arthur’s looking up at him like he just did something incredible, but they can’t stay like this forever, so Eames starts to sit back.

“Let me get something to clean you up,” he says.

‘Wait,” Arthur says, reaching out to grab Eames’ arm as he starts to pull away. “Can you - can you just wait for a minute?”

Eames watches as Arthur reaches down and curiously runs his fingers through the mess on his chest and belly then looks up at Eames.

“Do you like that?” Eames asks softly. “My come all over you?”

Arthur nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s - it feels...”

Eames reaches down and smears his fingers through the mess and then brings them up to Arthur’s mouth. Arthur opens right up for him, and Eames watches, shocked, as his eyes flutter shut and he sucks Eames’ fingers clean. A moment later Arthur lets out a soft moan and starts trying to shift his hips, and Eames feels his cock getting hard again pressed between them.

Arthur’s a filthy mess, licking come off of Eames’ fingers and asking him to please touch him again, and Eames isn’t going to say no to that. He jerks Arthur off quick and dirty with his hand all slick with come. Arthur writhes on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut like it’s too much too soon, then comes with a shout, adding to the mess all over him.

This time, Eames ignores Arthur’s protests when he moves to get up, and he fetches a washcloth then kneels down beside the couch. Arthur lets Eames wipe him clean, smiling lazily up at him and hissing when Eames rubs the cloth over his cock.

When he’s done, Eames stands up and looks down at him. “You better get out of here before you really do get me arrested.”

Arthur laughs and gets to his feet, buttoning his jeans with shaky hands. “My mom won’t be home until later, so you’re safe.”

“I suppose I am,” Eames says, taking in the sight of him looking flushed and rumpled and so lovely. “This time.”

Arthur grins and looks down at the floor, blushing even deeper. They stand together in silence for a few moments, then Arthur moves to leave. “Bye, Mr. Eames.”

“Arthur,” Eames calls, and Arthur stops and looks back. “You can call me Eames.”

Arthur smiles again, bigger than before, and Eames can’t help but smile back. “Okay,” Arthur says, then turns and walks out the door.

3.

Eames loosens his tie as he crosses the street from his office to the diner. He’s tense and exhausted, but all of the stress from his workday fades away when he walks through the door and sees Arthur across the room. Eames suppresses the ridiculous urge to walk over to where Arthur’s sitting, sweep him into his arms and kiss him senseless right there in front of everyone. Instead, he takes a seat in his usual booth.

A moment later, Arthur slides into the seat across from him. He’s pouting, but before Eames can say anything, Alice appears at the table.

“Late night at the office?” she asks as she fills his coffee cup.

“It was one of those days that felt like it would never end.” Eames sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes, then smiles up at her. “Thanks, Alice.”

“If you’re so tired, what are you doing here?” Arthur asks after she walks away.

Eames raises his eyebrows and sips his coffee. “I would have gone straight home, only there was a message on my phone that made me think it would be much more interesting here.”

Arthur’s face breaks out in a smile and a faint blush colors his cheeks. “You’re late,” he says, kicking Eames’ feet under the table.

Before Eames can reply, Judy stops by the booth to say hello.

“Arthur, I hope you’re not bothering Mr. Eames too much.”

“Not at all,” Eames assures her. “Arthur was just telling me about how well he did on his history exam last week.”

Arthur lets out a sharp breath and Eames knows he’s remembering exactly when he told Eames about it: sprawled out over his lap, trousers on the floor and sticky with come while Eames pressed soft kisses all over his neck.

“Yes, he did,” she says, beaming at Eames and ruffling Arthur’s hair affectionately. 

“You should be proud of him,” Eames says, sipping his coffee and watching Arthur squirm in his seat out of the corner of his eye. “He really is such a good boy.”

“Very proud,” she says to Eames, then turns to Arthur. “Alice’s shift is done in ten minutes and she said she’d give you a ride home so you don’t have to stay here all night.”

“Really?” Arthur asks straightening up in his seat. “Awesome.”

“Just promise me you’ll finish your homework. I’ll be home a little after eleven and you should be in bed and asleep by then. It’s a school night.”

“Yes, Mom,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes when she presses a kiss to his temple.

“She’s such a pain sometimes,” he says after she walks away.

“She just wants to make sure her good little boy doesn’t go getting himself into any trouble.”

Arthur tilts his head and grins at Eames. “I think I can handle myself.”

“It seems as though you have the evening free,” Eames says, lowering his voice and leaning across the table as close as he dares. “What are you planning to do with all that time?”

Arthur bites his lip and slides his feet out under the table, brushing them against Eames’, and his voice is so quiet Eames has to strain to hear. “I was thinking maybe you would let me suck your cock.”

Eames swallows hard and shifts in his seat, then looks up, startled, when Alice appears beside the table.

“Do you want to put in an order for something to eat before I leave, or will it be just coffee tonight?”

“I’ll take my check, thank you,” Eames tells her while Arthur smirks at him from across the table.

When Eames gets home from the diner, he goes right through his house and out the back, crossing over into Arthur’s yard and knocking on the door. Arthur opens the door a moment later, and before he can say a word, Eames pushes his way inside and sweeps Arthur into his arms, kissing him like he couldn’t before.

Eames pulls Arthur in close. He feels small and perfect, and Eames lifts him off his feet just to feel the weight of him in his arms. Arthur moans into Eames’ mouth the moment his feet leave the floor, and Eames thinks he could shove Arthur into the wall right here and rub against him until they both come, but he can’t get Arthur’s words out of his head.

He sets Arthur back down, ignoring his noise of protest, and walks him backward. Eames has never been inside Arthur’s house before, but he leads him through the doorway to what he guesses is the living room. Eames takes one look around the room at the sofa covered with flowered upholstery and the pictures hanging on the walls of Arthur smiling from every stage in his childhood and says, “How about you show me your bedroom?”

In Arthur’s room, Eames sits down on the edge of the bed and tugs Arthur forward. Arthur goes easily, climbing up and straddling his thighs, already so comfortable in Eames’ lap. Eames kisses Arthur again, hitching his hips closer, and then pulls back to look down at him. Arthur smiles and shifts in his lap, rubbing himself over Eames’ cock.

“Are you glad you didn’t forget about me?”

“Forget about you? Darling, I’ve been thinking about this since I got your message.”

Arthur’s cheeks flush and he bites his lip. “Yeah?”

Eames traces his fingers over Arthur’s lips, all red from kissing. “Do you think I’d rather be at home alone when I can have you instead, promising me all sorts of filthy things?”

Arthur smiles and lets Eames urge him to his feet, going down to his knees when Eames presses a firm hand to his shoulder.

“You’re so pretty on your knees for me,” Eames says, stroking Arthur’s hair.

Arthur looks up at him with a skeptical frown. “I’m not _pretty_.”

Eames chuckles and unbuttons his trousers. “Have you been thinking about this?” Eames asks, tracing Arthur’s lower lip with his thumb as he takes his cock out with his other hand.

Arthur keeps his eyes fixed on Eames’ cock as he nods eagerly.

Eames tilts Arthur’s chin up. “You want to suck my cock? Make me come with your mouth?”

Arthur whimpers but holds Eames’ gaze, digging his fingers into Eames’ thighs. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I want it.”

Eames cups Arthur’s face in his hand and strokes his thumb over his cheek. Arthur smiles softly and turns into his touch, tilting his face up and looking so lovely and willing it’s enough to leave Eames breathless. Eames lets his hand linger on Arthur’s cheek for a moment, drinking it all in, before curling his hand around the back of Arthur’s neck and tugging him close.

“Open up for me, sweetheart,” he says, spreading his thighs wide and guiding the head of his cock into Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur makes a pleased sound as soon as he wraps his lips around Eames’ cock, but Eames doesn’t give him much, just lets Arthur get used to the feel of it in his mouth. Eames pets Arthur’s hair, brushing it back off his forehead as Arthur sucks and licks on the head.

“Take a little more for me,” Eames encourages him, and he groans when Arthur slides his mouth further down. “That’s it, good boy.”

Arthur whimpers at the praise and grips Eames’ thighs tighter as he starts to speed up, breaths coming fast through his nose. He’s perfect like this, so perfect, and Eames tilts his head so he can watch Arthur’s mouth slide up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, Arthur,” Eames breathes. “I knew you’d be this good.”

Arthur moans around Eames’ cock, his whole body shaking as he tries to take Eames deeper.

“Careful, love,” Eames says, guiding Arthur’s head with one hand wrapped tight in his hair. “Just like that, you’re doing so well. You’re always so good, someday you’ll take it all for me.”

Arthur’s trembling as he clings onto Eames’ thighs, getting all worked up just from sucking his cock. The thought alone is enough to push Eames closer to the edge, but he tugs gently on Arthur’s hair, stilling his head. Arthur makes a sound of protest and looks up at him through his lashes. Eames sucks in a breath at the sight of Arthur on his knees, his mouth stuffed full of cock, red-faced and greedy for more.

“So pretty,” Eames murmurs, tracing Arthur’s lower lip where it’s stretched wide around his cock, and Arthur groans and his eyes flutter shut. Eames smiles down at him, and rocks his hips up, pushing into Arthur’s mouth. “How about I come all over that pretty face, would you like that?”

Arthur’s falling apart between his legs, moaning around Eames’ cock, sending shivers up Eames’ spine. Eames isn’t going to last much longer with Arthur’s mouth on him, hot and wet and eager, taking everything Eames gives him and trying desperately to get more.

“You love this, don’t you,” Eames says breathlessly, holding Arthur’s head still and fucking his mouth. “Look at you take it for me. Oh, _fuck_.”

Eames yanks Arthur’s head back and wraps his hand around his cock all shiny and slick from Arthur’s mouth. He gets in three strokes before he comes all over Arthur’s upturned face.

As soon as his hips stop twitching, Eames grabs Arthur by the shirt and hauls him up on the bed, shoving him onto his back. Eames braces himself on one arm and leans in close, his face just inches from Arthur’s.

“You look so fucking hot like this, you know that?” Eames says breathlessly, popping the button on Arthur’s trousers and working one hand inside. He doesn’t have a lot of room to work, but it’s not going to take much with Arthur this worked up. Arthur squirms on his back and licks his lips, groaning when he tastes Eames’ come.

“Look at you,” Eames says, sliding his thumb though the mess on Arthur’s cheek and pushing it into his mouth. “You want all of it, don’t you?”

Arthur’s hips jerk up as he sucks Eames’ fingers, begging for more - and it doesn't take much, just Eames feeding Arthur his come, telling him how perfect he was down on his knees. Arthur comes all over his hand, shaking apart while Eames strokes him through it, and promises that someday he’ll show him everything.

It takes several minutes for them to catch their breath. Arthur rolls to his side and buries his head in Eames’ neck, holding on while Eames strokes his back, their legs tangled together on Arthur’s narrow bed.

“I’m suddenly feeling terribly perverted here in your bedroom,” Eames says after a few minutes.

Arthur pulls back and smiles up at him. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Eames says, and kisses Arthur softly.

It’s tempting to fall back onto the sheets and get lost in the soft familiar warmth of Arthur’s mouth, but Eames pulls away after a moment and stands up, zipping up his trousers and straightening his shirt. “I really should get out of here.”

Arthur looks disappointed, but he nods up at Eames. “Okay.”

Eames glances at the clock on the table beside Arthur’s bed, then leans over him. “Your mum won’t be finished work for a couple hours,” he says, wiping a stray drop off come off of Arthur’s cheek. “You could come with me if you like.”

Arthur’s whole face lights up and Eames can’t resist kissing him again.

They end up watching a movie on Eames’ couch, with Arthur in his lap, leaning back against his shoulder and Eames’ arms linked around his waist. Arthur feels soft and warm against him, and it’s intimate in a way the desperate frantic fumblings in Arthur’s bed weren’t. Pressed this close, Eames can smell the detergent from Arthur’s shirt and feel the rhythm of his breaths, slow and even, and Eames pulls him in a little closer.

As it gets closer to eleven, Arthur slumps further into Eames’ lap, nuzzling his face in Eames’ neck. Eames tilts his head so he can press their lips together, but pulls back when Arthur tries to turn the kiss wet and filthy.

Arthur is hard again; Eames can see it straining against the front of his trousers, but Eames ignores it, and holds Arthur still with one hand wrapped around his hip when he tries to squirm down in Eames’ lap.

“Your time’s up,” Eames whispers against Arthur's mouth.

Arthur sighs but lets Eames push him to his feet and lead him to the back door. Eames leans in for one more kiss, and pulls back laughing when Arthur tries to rub himself against him. “You’re going to have to take care of that one yourself.”

Arthur pouts for a moment, then he smiles up at Eames, bright and sincere, and all the breath gets caught up in Eames’ chest. “Next time?”

Eames reaches up and touches Arthur’s cheek as a surge of affection clenches deep in his gut. “Next time,” Eames promises.

Arthur doesn’t move; he keeps looking at Eames just like that until Eames gently urges him out the door. Eames watches as Arthur crosses the yard, and when he reaches his house, he turns and waves, and even from this distance Eames can see he’s still smiling. Eames waves back and watches as Arthur disappears inside.

4.

Eames feels oddly tense at the diner, while Arthur scribbles in a notebook across from him, eating food off Eames’ plate and keeping up a running commentary about how he’s stuck doing all the work for his chemistry lab because his lab partner is a slacker.

“Why don’t you just split it down the middle?” Eames says, giving up on getting any of his dinner and pushing his plate across to Arthur. “You take half the work, and give him the other half.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Arthur says bluntly, looking up from his notebook. “I’m not going to risk my grade because Sam’s a moron.”

“Silly me, what on earth was I thinking. Are you this charming to Sam in chemistry lab?”

Arthur looks up from under his lashes and smiles, flashing his dimples. “I can be charming when I want to.”

Eames chuckles and leans back in his seat. “Don’t I know it.”

Arthur bites his lip and slides his feet forward under the table, brushing against Eames’ leg. Eames has a momentary flash of panic and pulls his feet away, glancing around to see if Judy is nearby. Arthur looks at him oddly for a moment, but Eames pushes all the ridiculous thoughts out of his head and smiles at him.

“You ready to get out of here?”

Arthur brightens at that and shoves the rest of Eames’ cheeseburger into his mouth.

It’s not the first time Eames has thought about the consequences of getting caught, but it is the first time the vague knowledge that it would be bad has crystallized in his head into what it would actually mean to lose Arthur, and it’s not something he wants dwell on, not when he’d so much rather get Arthur back to his house where they’re all alone and he can touch him as much as he wants.

Judy stops by the table to say goodbye while Arthur packs up his school books.

“I really do appreciate you driving him home so often,” she tells Eames. “I know Arthur hates being stuck here all night, but it makes me feel better when I get to see him for a bit after school.”

“Why do you have to talk about me like I’m not even here?” Arthur grumbles.

“Sorry, honey,” Judy says, stroking his hair.

“It’s really no problem at all,” Eames tells her. “It’s not even out of my way.”

“I hope he behaves for you,” she says, and Eames can see Arthur watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Eames is reminded once again of what’s at stake, and all that he’s not willing to risk losing, so he just smiles and nods politely.

Satisfied, she turns back to Arthur. “Promise me you’ll think about what I said?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and slings his backpack onto his shoulder. “Fine.”

Judy kisses Arthur on the cheek, thanks Eames again, and waves goodbye as they walk out the door together.

Once they’re in the car, all the stress of being under watchful eyes disappears, and Eames relaxes, reaching across the space between them to rest his hand on Arthur’s thigh.

“Finally,” Arthur says with a sigh.

“Now you’re all mine.” Eames tells him, and Arthur smiles and leans back in his seat, opening his legs so Eames can curl his fingers down the inside of his thigh.

Arthur hums happily while Eames strokes his leg, and when Eames glances over, Arthur’s eyes are closed and his hair is curling down over his forehead. He looks lovely like this, relaxed and so young, and Eames barely restrains the urge to pull over on the side of the road.

“What did your mother want you to think about?” Eames asks, turning his eyes back to the road.

“There’s this dance at school. The winter formal,” Arthur says with disgust. “The whole thing is dumb but my mom thinks I should find a date and go be social.”

“Ah, I see,” Eames says, raising his eyebrows and glancing over at Arthur. “Maybe you could ask Sam?”

“Gross,” Arthur says, wrinkling his nose. “Whatever, even if I did want to find a date, all the boys in my school are too young.”

“Hey now,” Eames says, sliding his hand further up Arthur’s thigh. ”What’s wrong with young?”

Arthur grins over at him. “Not really my type.”

“Right then,” Eames says, looking over at Arthur. “No sixteen-year-old boys for you.”

Arthur slumps down in his seat while Eames rubs his hand over his crotch, where Arthur is predictably hard underneath his school uniform trousers. “Just for you.”

Once they’re at his house. Eames doesn’t waste any time getting Arthur naked and into his bed. He stretches out beside him and runs his hand down Arthur’s back to the swell of his arse, pulling him closer and relishing the feel of all that hot skin pressed up against his own. Eames hooks his fingers in Arthur’s hair, tugging him in for a kiss, easing Arthur’s mouth open with his tongue. Arthur leans into the kiss and tries to get more, but Eames holds his head and keeps it slow, pulling back when Arthur starts to gasp into his mouth and he ruts against him, his cock leaving wet sticky trails where it rubs along Eames’ thigh.

“Easy,” Eames says, stilling Arthur’s hips. “We have plenty of time tonight.”

“But I want it now,” Arthur whines, squirming as best he can in Eames’ grip.

Eames chuckles and rolls Arthur onto his back, kneeling over him. Arthur spreads his legs wide apart and arches up under Eames. “You’re so greedy,” Eames tells him, pinning Arthur’s arms over his head and trapping Arthur’s legs with his knees, holding him in place. “Let me finish kissing you first.”

Arthur sighs but relaxes into the bed. They both know that when Eames pins him down like this, Arthur can’t move an inch unless Eames lets him. But that doesn’t stop Arthur’s mouth, and Eames has taught him well. 

“I want your cock inside me,” Arthur pleads while Eames holds him down and presses his mouth to Arthur’s neck. “Please, Eames. I _need_ it. It’s been forever since you fucked me.”

Eames looks up from where he’s sucking a line of kisses across Arthur’s chest. “It’s been less than a week.”

“But I want it every day,” Arthur says, pouting up at him. Eames lets Arthur’s legs go and he immediately wraps them around Eames’ waist and tries to pull him in.

“I know you do,” Eames says soothingly, ignoring Arthur’s skinny legs trying to tug him closer. “And I will, I promise, but I want to try something first.”

Arthur glares up at him. “Something besides fucking me?”

“We’ll get there,” Eames promises. “But first let me put you on your knees and lick you open.”

Arthur narrows his eyes and goes silent for a moment. “Why?” he asks finally.

Eames releases Arthur’s arms and leans in close. “Because you have such a pretty little arse,” he says, brushing the hair off Arthur’s forehead. “And because I want to make you feel good. I always want to make you feel good.”

“It feels good when you fuck me,” Arthur says, reaching down between them and wrapping his hand around Eames’ cock.

“Mmm, yeah,” Eames says as Arthur touches him just the way he likes, jerking him with slow even strokes and rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock.

Arthur looks up at Eames, his wide-eyed earnest expression a delicious contrast to the filth coming out of his mouth. “I haven’t fingered myself since the last time, I’ll be so tight for you.”

Eames chuckles breathlessly as Arthur's fist slides up and down on his cock. “You’re always so tight for me, sweetheart.”

Eames wraps one arm under Arthur’s back and lifts him clear off the bed, cradling his weight as he sits back on his heels. Arthur makes a surprised noise then settles into Eames’ lap, spreading his legs to straddle Eames’ thighs.

“You’re worried it isn’t going to be enough, aren’t you?” Eames asks as he traces his fingers down the cleft of Arthur’s arse. “You’re so desperate for my cock that you don’t think I can make you come like that, is that it?”

Arthur nods, clinging onto Eames’ neck as he rocks in his lap, rubbing his cock against Eames’ belly, then pushing back onto his hand.

“If I’m going to fuck you I need to open you up first with my fingers, get you all wet so you can take my cock in your tight little arse,” Eames murmurs in Arthur’s ear, pressing the tip of his finger against Arthur’s hole. “I just want to fuck you open with my tongue instead until you’re dripping and ready for me. I know how much you love it when you’re all wet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur groans, squirming in Eames’ lap. “I want that.”

Eames wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist and pulls him in, kissing him deeply. “On your knees for me,” he says when he pulls away, and Arthur scrambles to comply.

Eames kneels behind Arthur and strokes down his back, resting his hands on the swell of his arse, enjoying the way his skin feels so soft and smooth under his fingers. Arthur is quivering in anticipation already, and Eames is struck by how much he wants to give this to Arthur, how he wants to make it so good for him.

He spreads Arthur’s cheeks apart, and Arthur immediately drops his head to the pillow and pushes his arse up in the air.

"Eames, _please_ ," Arthur begs, and Eames isn’t going to make him wait a moment longer.

Arthur shivers when Eames’ tongue touches him, and his hips stutter, pulling away then pushing back for more as Eames licks over his hole. It only takes a moment for Arthur to relax into it, moaning into the sheets and spreading his knees wider.

“I knew you’d love this,” Eames says, pulling back and rubbing his thumb over Arthur’s hole, all pink and wet from his mouth. “Now hold yourself open for me.”

Arthur reaches back obediently, and lets Eames guide his hands into place.

Eames’ cock throbs at the sight of Arthur spreading himself with shaky arms. “That’s it. That’s _perfect_ ,” he says, and wraps his arms around Arthur’s thighs, and leaning back in for more.

Arthur’s clenched so tight, but Eames slowly coaxes him open, pressing the tip of his tongue against his hole, licking him until he’s wet and filthy from Eames’ mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, oh, _fuck_ ,” Arthur moans, holding himself wide open, his hole fluttering under Eames’ tongue.

Eames’ heart is hammering in his chest and he can hardly breathe with his face buried in Arthur’s arse, but he can’t stop, not now, not when Arthur is so desperate and needy, trusting Eames to give him what he wants. No one else has touched Arthur like this. No one else has tasted him or felt the way he’s so tight and smooth inside, and Eames wraps his arms around Arthur’s thighs and yanks him back against his face so he can lick into him where no one else has ever been, drinking in all the noises Arthur makes just for him.

Arthur’s arms give out, dropping back down to the bed, and Eames releases his thighs and digs his thumbs into Arthur’s arse so he can spread him open and push his tongue back in. Arthur’s whole body is shaking, and he’s grunting into the pillow, making soft _ah, ah, ah_ sounds as he shoves back, fucking himself on Eames’ face, wide open and greedy, taking all of it, taking everything.

Arthur is close, Eames can tell by the sounds he’s making and the way his hips start jerking back and forth, so Eames wraps his lips around Arthur’s hole and sucks, fucking into him, pushing his tongue in where Arthur is so wet and open. Arthur shoves back hard and cries out, clenching around Eames’ tongue and coming onto the sheets.

Eames pulls his face away and wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist, gently lowering him to the bed. His skin feels hot all over and he’s dizzy with the taste of Arthur on his tongue, and he gasps for breath while Arthur trembles beneath him.

Eames leans down, bracing himself on one arm beside Arthur’s head. “You still want me to fuck you?”

Arthur is limp on the sheets, but he spreads his legs for Eames. “Yeah.”

Eames fumbles for the lube, slicking his cock and tossing the bottle aside. Arthur’s so fucking ready for it, and Eames slides all the way in with one easy push.

Eames drapes himself over Arthur’s back so he can whisper into his ear. “You’re perfect, you know that?” Eames asks, rolling his hips, and sinking in a little deeper. “I’m going to make you come again, fuck you so good.”

“Yes,” Arthur gasps into the pillows. “Hard, fuck me hard.”

Eames laughs breathlessly and kisses Arthur’s neck. “Anything you want.”

Eames wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist and hauls him up to his knees. Arthur is trembling all over, too shaky to hold himself up, so Eames does it for him, pulling Arthur back onto his cock as he snaps his hips forward, fucking Arthur the way he wants it, the way he knows Arthur loves it.

“You like that?” Eames asks, digging his fingers into Arthur’s skin hard enough to bruise. “Tell me.”

“Oh god,” Arthur moans, writhing on Eames’ cock. “Oh _fuck_.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eames says, pulling back so he can watch as he fucks Arthur, shoving his cock deep inside, where Arthur is so hot and open and just for him. “Take it for me, all for me.”

Arthur whimpers into the sheets, too far gone for words, and Eames wants to give him all the things he wants, all the things he can’t even beg for. He wants to make him come, fill him up, fuck him until he can’t give him any more, until he’s given him everything he has.

Eames pushes Arthur’s hips down, dropping on top of him and crushing him to the bed so he can shove into him hard and so deep. “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur,” he gasps, pressing his face into the hot sweaty skin of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur’s tight and hot and so perfect, and Eames can’t hold out much longer. When Arthur turns his head just enough to brush his lips against Eames’ it’s all over. His hips jerk as he comes with a groan, hot and wet, deep inside of Arthur.

When Eames pulls out, Arthur lets out a sound of protest, but doesn’t even lift his head. Eames feels hazy and slow from his orgasm, but he’s not going to stop to catch his breath, not when Arthur still wants more. Eames tucks his arms under Arthur and rolls him over, gently laying him out on his back. Arthur’s flushed and sweaty, covered with come and limp against the sheets, but his cock is hard again and looks up at Eames. “Please,” he croaks, spreading his legs.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eames tells him, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his sticky belly. “I’ve got you, I’m going to take care of you.”

Eames doesn’t drag it out, he just swallows Arthur’s cock all the way down. Arthur arches up, his whole body going tight, and Eames slides two fingers into his arse, all slick and open and dripping with Eames’ come. Eames can’t say a word like this, he can’t make promises or tell Arthur that he doesn't want to risk losing anything, he wants to keep it all for him, so instead he pushes a third finger in, twisting them in the wet sloppy mess of Arthur’s arse and swallows every drop when Arthur comes in his mouth.

Eames gathers Arthur up and lifts him into his arms. Arthur is limp and boneless and totally fucked out, and he lets Eames roll him over and drape him over Eames’ chest. Arthur clings onto him weakly as he gasps into Eames’ neck. Eames strokes the back of Arthur’s head, smoothing his sweaty hair and listens as his breathing slowly returns to normal. Arthur falls asleep in his arms just like that. They still have a few hours left, so Eames pulls Arthur in a little tighter, keeping him close where he can give Arthur everything he wants and no one else gets to have him, and holding on until he has to let go.

5.

Eames can’t find it in him to object when Arthur spends every available moment with him, but when Arthur tells Eames about the teacher conference his mother has to attend to discuss why he’s gone from straight As to barely passing, Eames puts his foot down. Arthur pouts and grumbles, but stays at the diner when Eames leaves so he can work on a special project to pull his grades up.

It’s more than a week before Eames has Arthur alone in his house again, and he shoves him up against the wall the moment he gets through the door, kissing and touching like he can’t stop. Eames is tempted to lift Arthur up, carry him to the bed, and throw him down, but it’s been so long, and now that he can taste him and feel his skin under his hands, he wants to savor every moment.

“I missed you,” Eames murmurs in his ear, pushing him into the wall and pressing his face to Arthur’s neck. 

“Me too.” Arthur’s breathless already, and his head thunks back against the wall as Eames grinds into him.

Eames rubs himself on Arthur, relishing the feel of his body all along his, squirming where he’s pinned to the wall, then draws back and cups Arthur’s face in his hand, stroking his cheek. “My bed is a terribly lonely place without you.”

Arthur smiles at him, but then his face darkens and he lowers his eyes. “It’s going to be forever until I see you again.”

Eames tilts Arthur’s chin up and rubs his thumb over his lower lip. “No pouting tonight. It’s only a couple weeks and then your mother will be back to her regular shift, and you’ll be back here almost every night, in my bed, where I can have my wicked way with you.”

“You should take me to your bed and fuck me right now,” Arthur says, linking his arms around Eames’ neck, and Eames manhandles him the rest of the way to the bedroom.

Eames pushes Arthur down on the bed, and pulls his own shirt off before climbing on top of him. “How’s your extra credit project going?”

Arthur looks at him incredulously, then reaches up and runs his hands over Eames’ shoulders, and tries to pull him down. “Now that you’ve got me here, _this_ is what you want to talk about?”

“I’m partially responsible for you almost flunking out of the eleventh grade.”

“I didn’t _almost flunk_ , I just...” Arthur trails off, raising his arms up when Eames tugs at his shirt.

“Neglected all of your schoolwork in favor of getting fucked every night?” Eames supplies.

Arthur grins up at him. “So worth it.”

“You know if it were up to me you’d always be here,” Eames tells him, running his hand down Arthur’s chest and coming to rest low on his belly. “But it’s not going to be worth if you end up grounded and I don’t get to have you at all.”

“I can study here,” Arthur says hopefully.

“We tried that, remember?” Eames reminds him, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Arthur’s trousers and briefs. Arthur lifts his hips as Eames pulls them off together leaving him naked at last. “And somehow we always ended up just like this.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t resist me,” Arthur says, smiling up at Eames as he leans back on the bed and parts his legs in invitation.

Eames trails his fingers up the inside of Arthur’s thigh, watching the way it makes him shiver all over and spread his legs a little wider. “Darling, I couldn’t resist you if I tried.”

Eames slicks his fingers and circles Arthur’s hole before pushing one inside. It’s been awhile and Arthur’s even tighter than usual, but he moans and rocks his hips up when Eames presses a second one in. He braces himself on one arm and leans in as he opens Arthur up with his fingers. “You feel so good,” he whispers in Arthur’s ear as he works a third finger in. “I’m going to get you all wet for me and then fuck you until you scream.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur moans, fucking himself down on Eames’ fingers. “C’mon, do it.”

Eames phone starts buzzing on the bedside table, but he ignores it in favor of squirting more lube onto his hand and working it into Arthur’s hole until he’s dripping with it, sloppy and open around Eames’ fingers. A moment later, it buzzes again; Eames reluctantly pulls his fingers out, earning him a huff of protest from Arthur, and reaches for his phone.

The display screen shows two missed calls from his boss. Eames swears and gets out of bed. “I have to make a call,” he says, leaning down to kiss Arthur. “Don’t move.”

Eames spends ten minutes on the phone, negotiating with his boss about a problem with their new account, then another ten minutes sitting on the couch with his laptop, trying to solve it, until he has to concede that it's not going to be a quick fix - and it's not going to be a fix at all if he stays at home with his incomplete files. He calls his boss back and tells him he'll be at the office as soon as he can, and hangs up with a sigh.

When he looks up, Arthur’s standing in the doorway in the t-shirt Eames’ had been wearing earlier, looking crestfallen.

“Arthur,” Eames starts.

“You have to go to work,” he says flatly.

“Yeah,” Eames tells him. “There’s a problem that I can’t fix from here.”

“When will you be back?”

There’s a note of hope in Arthur’s voice that hits Eames like a punch to the gut. “It’s going to take a while,” he says gently.

Arthur’s face crumples. “After my mom gets home?”

Eames nods. “Probably.”

Arthur blinks rapidly, and for a moment Eames thinks he might cry, but then he clenches his jaw and curls his hands into fists at his side. “This is _my_ night. I haven’t seen you in so long, and it’s going to be forever until I see you again.”

“It’s just a couple of weeks with your mum working days. We can get through this. I promise it will be okay.”

“Oh, you _promise_?” Arthur spits out. “Just like you promised you’d give me anything I want? That’s bullshit. My mom goes back to working evenings and then what? We get to sneak around just like this again. I still don’t get to have what I want, and I don’t even get any say in my own life.”

“I know it’s hard,” Eames says. “And I’m so sorry, but - ”

“I don’t care,” Arthur interrupts, shaking with anger and practically shouting. “I’m sick of this. And I’m sick of you telling me it’s going to be okay. It’s _not_ okay.”

Eames doesn’t have a response that won’t sound hollow and trite, and Arthur deserves more than that. Arthur deserves more than Eames is allowed to give. 

“It’s not fair,” Arthur continues in a trembling voice. “You said you’d give me anything I want. You promised.” He takes a deep shuddering breath, and just like that, all the fight goes out of him and he slumps against the wall in defeat, Eames’ too-big shirt slipping down over his shoulder. “You _promised_ ,” he repeats, quieter this time, looking so small and utterly despondent that Eames _aches_.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Arthur hesitates for a second, biting his lip and looking totally lost, then he crosses the room and climbs into Eames’ lap, clinging onto his neck. “It’s not fair,” he says, his chest hitching with every breath. “It’s not fair.”

Eames wraps his arms all the way around Arthur’s narrow shoulders and pulls him in as tight as he can, crushing him to his chest. “I know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to Arthur’s temple. 

“You said you’d give me what I want,” Arthur says, burying his face in Eames’ neck. “Why can’t I have this? Why can’t I have you?”

Eames pulls Arthur in tighter, squeezing out all the spaces between them until there’s none left. Arthur’s face is damp on Eames’ neck, and he feels small and fragile in his arms, and Eames lets himself forget about work emergencies and scheduled time and all the things that keep them apart every single day, and just holds him close, right here, right now, in this moment.

Eames slips his hand under the hem of Arthur’s shirt and strokes the soft skin of his back, and Arthur hums into Eames’ neck and shifts in his lap, spreading his thighs wider. Eames trails his fingers down and pushes them into Arthur, where he’s still slick and open and so hot inside, and Arthur whimpers and rocks down onto Eames’ hand.

“Eames, please,” Arthur whispers into his neck. Arthur knows how to beg. He knows how to plead and whine and pout until he gets what he wants, but this is different. “Please,” he says again, and it’s simple and quiet and honest, and Eames doesn’t want to say no again. He _can’t_ say no.

“Yes,” he says instead. “Yes.”

So often it seems like getting fucked is the only thing Arthur wants. Right now it feels small and insignificant in the face of everything they can’t have, but Eames isn’t going to deny him this, not when it’s the only thing he has to give.

Eames wraps one arm around Arthur’s waist and urges him up to his knees so he can open his trousers and take his cock out. Arthur looks down at him, his face open and trusting, waiting for Eames to tell him what to do.

“Sit down for me,” Eames says, pulling Arthur down into his lap. “Right on my cock, that’s it.”

Arthur’s eyes flutter shut and he sucks in a breath, but he’s so wet and he sinks right down, taking all of Eames’ cock in one smooth slide. In all the times they’ve fucked, they’ve never done it like this, and Arthur frowns and shifts forward haltingly, moaning when the angle lets him sink down further onto Eames’ cock.

“Just move so it feels good,” Eames says, his hands tight on Arthur’s hips, guiding him into a rhythm. “There you go, good boy.”

Arthur keeps his arms wrapped around Eames’ neck as he starts to move, his thighs flexing where they’re spread out over Eames’ lap. They’re pressed so close, everything so hot between them, and Eames holds Arthur’s hips as Arthur grinds down on his cock.

Eames reaches down and rubs his finger around the edge of Arthur’s hole, where he’s slick and tight and spread wide open. Arthur shudders at the touch and clenches down, squeezing around Eames’ cock. “Yeah,” Eames says, still stroking the rim of Arthur’s hole. “You’re so tight for me.”

Arthur groans into Eames’ neck and speeds up, fucking himself down on Eames’ lap. His cock is trapped between them, leaving a wet smear where it rubs against Eames’ belly. Arthur is close already, and it isn’t going to take much. It never does with Eames’ cock inside him.

Eames stills Arthur’s hips and slouches back on the couch, pulling Arthur with him. Arthur squirms and tries to fuck himself down on Eames’ cock, but Eames tightens his grip on his hips and whispers in his ear, “Hold still for me. Let me take care of you. Let me give you this.”

Instead of protesting or demanding more, Arthur lets himself go loose, sprawling out over Eames’ chest. Arthur feels so small in his arms, and Eames thinks he could wrap his whole body around him, keep him safe and warm, hidden away from everyone and everything.

Eames wants to give Arthur everything he has. He wants to hold him like this and always say yes and keep him here where no one else can find him, but right now, this is all he can do. Eames slides his fingers back down to where they’re joined, and Arthur whimpers and shifts in his lap, but he stays still and lets Eames give him what he can.

“Please,” Arthur whimpers in his ear as Eames touches him where he’s stretched around Eames’ cock.

“Tell me, let me hear it,” Eames murmurs, stroking Arthur’s hair with his free hand, the fingers of the other teasing the slick rim of Arthur’s hole.

“I want it, I want it,” Arthur babbles, rocking back into Eames’ hand.

“What do you want?”

“I want your fingers inside me. I want you always inside me.”

Arthur’s so wet, the insides of his thighs dripping with lube, and Eames runs his fingers through it, getting them nice and slick, before nudging one against the edge of Arthur’s hole. Arthur moans into Eames’ neck, lifting his hips then shifting back, letting gravity help him sink down, opening right up for Eames’ finger alongside his cock. Arthur tightens his grip on Eames’ neck and rocks back in Eames’ lap, pushing him in deeper.

“You want to take more for me?” Eames asks, “Let me give you more.”

“Yeah,” Arthur groans.

Eames presses another finger against his hole, and Arthur just takes it, opening up for him and fucking himself down on Eames’ cock and fingers. Arthur’s hot and so fucking tight like this, split wide open, taking everything Eames’ gives him.

Arthur starts to lose his rhythm, clinging onto Eames’ neck as his hips stutter helplessly in his lap. “Eames,” he pleads, sounding so desperate and needy that it takes Eames’ breath away.

Eames can hardly breathe with Arthur’s arms locked tight around his neck, but he wraps one arm around Arthur’s waist and thrusts his hips up, fucking in deep, giving Arthur as much as he can. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

Arthur tenses up and comes with a cry, shoving down hard on Eames’ cock and fingers, slicking the skin between them, and shaking in Eames’ lap.

Eames holds Arthur until he stops trembling, then carefully pulls his fingers free. Arthur is limp and breathless against Eames’ chest, but he shifts his hips, rocking back on Eames’ cock and whispers, “I want to feel your come inside me. _Please_.”

Someday Eames will say always say yes, and he’ll give Arthur everything, but for now, this all he has, so he hauls Arthur up in his lap and holds him in place as he fucks him.

“You’re so perfect like this, so perfect for me,” Eames says as he moves, choking back promises of a future that’s too far away. “Always my good boy.”

Arthur whimpers and digs his fingers into Eames’ neck, holding on as Eames thrusts up into him.

“I’m going to come inside your tight little arse, fill you up, just like you want,” Eames promises. “You’ll be so wet with my come, and when it starts to drip out, you push it back in for me and it’ll be like I’m right there with you, deep inside you.”

Eames isn’t ready for it to end. Their time is already up, but Eames doesn’t want to let go. He tries to hold on for as long as he can, tries to stay here hidden away in the one place he can give Arthur what he wants. But Arthur is in his lap, so tight and so perfect, holding on, taking it all, and Eames comes just like that, filling him up, giving Arthur everything he has.

Eames would stay like this all night, with Arthur's boneless weight in his lap, but he forces himself to glance at the clock before too long, and reality seeps back into their little bubble.

“Arthur,” he says, stroking a hand up under his shirt. “I have to get up now.”

Arthur doesn’t make it easy. He keeps his arms locked around Eames’ neck until Eames has to reach up and unclasp them, lifting Arthur as gently as he can out of his lap and setting him down on the floor. After sex, Arthur is usually warm and pliant, giggling as he curls up in Eames’ arms, but now he’s standing stiffly, with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on the floor, and there’s nothing Eames can do except walk away to get himself ready to go.

Arthur follows Eames into the bedroom and crawls into the bed, curling up on the pillows and watching as Eames cleans himself up and pulls on fresh clothes.

When he’s done, Eames kneels beside the bed and strokes Arthur’s hair. “I really do need to go now.”

“Can I stay here?”

Eames sighs and closes his eyes. “You know you can’t.”

“No, I mean until my mom gets home. I just... want to be here even if you’re not.”

Eames has never seen Arthur look so crushed and utterly hopeless, and he can’t say no again.

“Will you promise me that you’ll get home before your mother does?”

“I promise.”

Eames reaches for the clock on the bedside table and sets the alarm. “Just in case you fall asleep,” he tells Arthur. “And text me when you get home. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll call to make sure you’re up.”

Arthur nods up at him. “Okay,” he says in a small voice.

Eames leans in and kisses Arthur softly on the mouth, just a quick press of his lips, moving away before Arthur can wrap his arms around him, knowing he doesn’t have the strength to pull Arthur off him again.

“Goodnight,” Eames says, touching Arthur’s cheek and then walking away, leaving Arthur all alone.

At the office, Eames buries himself in his work. He takes a break to text Arthur a few hours later to make sure he made it home. After promising to call him when he leaves, Eames turns back to his files, letting the problem he can fix distract him from the one he knows he can't.

It’s half past two in the morning when Eames finally wraps everything up. His head aches and he’s exhausted all the way to his bones. He calls Arthur the moment he gets into his car, and Arthur picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” he mumbles.

“You’re sleeping with your phone in your hand again, aren’t you?” Eames asks him.

It’s something Eames has teased him about before, but tonight it doesn’t even earn him a chuckle. Eames tries to find the words, but he doesn’t know how to tell Arthur it will be okay. He can promise him the future and forever, but when it’s dark and lonely, it’s hard to see past tomorrow, and tomorrow is not his to give.

“I’m sorry,” Eames says.

They’re not the right words, and they’re not enough, not nearly enough, but in the middle of the night with a sad, sleepy voice in his ear and the knowledge that he can’t make this better pressing down on him, it’s the best he can do.

Arthur is silent for long time, and for a moment, Eames thinks he may have fallen back to sleep. “I just miss you,” he finally says in a small voice.

It’s only been a few hours since he left, but Eames knows it’s not about tonight. Eames knows because he feels it, too. Eames misses Arthur in between the stolen moments on a schedule that is not their own, and he misses all the moments they never get to have.

In the end, he doesn’t promise Arthur anything more than he can give right here, right now, and so he talks into the phone about anything that pops into his head, and doesn’t hang up until Arthur is sound asleep on the other end.

Ten minutes later, Eames pulls into the driveway and parks his car. Next door, Arthur’s house is dark, a reminder of what’s so close yet too often so impossibly far out of reach.

Inside, he drops his keys on the table and doesn’t even bother undressing, he just kicks off his shoes and flops down on the bed. The sheets are cold, but they still smell like Arthur, and Eames falls asleep with his face buried in the pillows, breathing him in.

6.

Eames rolls over in bed and rubs his hand over his eyes, squinting to read the clock on the bedside table. It’s half past five on a Saturday morning, and he can hear the muffled sound of footsteps in the hall outside his bedroom. A moment later, Arthur comes through the door, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

“Hey,” he whispers, and even in the semi-darkness, Eames can see his eyes shining bright with excitement. Judy’s working a rare double shift, and Arthur has been bouncing off the walls ever since he found out, vowing not to waste a single moment. Eames has no doubt that Arthur snuck across the yard the moment her car pulled out of the driveway.

“Get in here with me,” Eames tells him, lifting the covers.

Arthur peels off his shorts and slides under the blanket, sighing happily when Eames curls around his back. Eames wraps his arm around Arthur’s chest, pulling him in close, and after a minute, Arthur wiggles back against him.

“Eames,” he says.

“Shhh,” Eames whispers in his ear. “It’s so early.”

“C’mon, Eames,” Arthur whines, more insistently this time, squirming his arse on Eames’ cock.

“We have the whole day ahead of us, and the sun is not even up yet,” Eames tells him, finding Arthur’s hand in the darkness and linking their fingers together. “Now be a good boy and go to sleep.”

Arthur makes a displeased sound, but squeezes Eames’ hand and relaxes back against his chest. Soon Arthur’s breaths settle into a deep, even rhythm, and Eames holds him close, letting the sound lull him to sleep.

When Eames wakes again, the rooms is bright with sunlight and Arthur is sound asleep in his arms. He tilts his head down and gets a face full of soft hair, and he breathes in, the smell so familiar to him now. Eames tightens his arms around Arthur, pulling him closer, and Arthur makes a soft, sleepy sound and settles back against his chest.

Arthur has been in Eames’ bed more times than he can count, squirming and eager and begging for it, or limp and sweaty and too fucked out to move, but this is different. Arthur is curled up in his arms, but they’re not counting down the minutes until it’s time to say goodnight. Instead they’re tucked away, safe and warm, waking up to the promise of a day that is all their own stretched out ahead of them. Balanced on the edge sleep, with his head still half full of dreams, Eames can pretend for a moment that it’s not just today.

Eames shifts so he can press his mouth to the back of Arthur’s neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses into his skin while his fingers trace mindless patterns on Arthur’s belly. Eames knows so many things about Arthur’s body and how he responds, but this is new, and Eames wants to kiss and touch and explore every inch of him, unlocking all of the secrets that will someday be his.

Arthur shifts in Eames’ arms as he wakes, and Eames tugs on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back and leaning up on his elbow so he can look down at him.

Arthur blinks and his lips curl up into a slow sleepy smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eames says, brushing Arthur’s hair off his forehead, then running his fingers over the pillow creases on Arthur’s face. “Good morning.”

It takes Arthur a moment to catch up, but Eames sees as soon as he registers the significance of the words, and his whole face lights up. Eames touches Arthur’s mouth, rubbing his thumb over Arthur’s lower lip and Arthur hums and closes his eyes, relaxing into the sheets. Eames has never seen Arthur like this before, slow and sluggish, naked in his bed but not begging to be fucked, and Eames leans in and kisses him, relishing the feel of Arthur’s body against his own, sleep warm and so soft. Arthur wraps his arms around Eames’ neck and lets Eames set the pace, parting his lips and kissing back, but not pushing for more when Eames pulls away to reach for the lube.

Eames slicks up his fingers and settles between Arthur’s thighs. By this point, Arthur is usually frantic and desperate, but now he just spreads his legs wider, and sighs when Eames circles his fingers over his hole. Eames takes his time, rubbing his fingers back and forth, teasing his opening, before pushing one in.

“Look at you,” Eames says, his voice full of wonder as Arthur’s head falls back on the pillows and a pink flush spreads down his neck and over his narrow chest.

Eames pulls his finger all the way out and pushes Arthur’s thigh up to his chest, spreading him wide open, so he can see his tight little hole, all shiny and slick. He squirts more lube on his fingers then presses two in, and Arthur makes a soft breathy sound as Eames’ fingers slide in as far as they’ll go.

Eames pushes Arthur’s leg higher and watches as his fingers disappear into that tiny little space. He could fuck Arthur right now, pull his fingers out and shove his cock in where Arthur’s hot and slick inside. Arthur’s still so tight, but he’s sleepy and relaxed, for once not begging for more, just taking everything that Eames gives him and Eames doesn’t want to rush.

“Someday, when I get to have you with me every day,” Eames starts, choking on the words as his throat goes tight. He swallows hard and tries again. “When you’re here every day, I won’t have to do this.”

Arthur looks up at him, his eyelids fluttering every time Eames slides his fingers in, still too sleepy to push for more, and Eames soaks all of this in, burning it into his mind where he can hold it safe until someday when it’s his to keep.

“Someday I’ll fuck you every night,” Eames promises, tracing his thumb around the slick rim of Arthur’s hole where he’s stretched around his fingers. “Fill you up, leave you dripping with my come, so that every morning you’ll still be all wet and open for me, and I’ll slide my cock right in while you’re all sleepy just like this, before you can even beg me for it.”

“Someday,” Arthur whispers with a sleepy smile. Arthur’s heard all of this before, the promises of the future Eames can’t hold back when it all feels hopeless, but right now, with the blankets still tangled around them from sleep, and the morning light streaming in the window, someday doesn’t seem so far away at all.

Arthur’s looking up at him, his face so open and trusting, and Eames can hardly breathe, so he drops Arthur’s leg and leans in, draping himself over Arthur and burying his face in his neck. Arthur brings his skinny arms up and wraps them around the back of Eames’ head, holding him tight. “I’ll always give you what you want,” he breathes into Arthur’s skin while he fucks him open with his fingers. “Anything you want.”

“Yeah,” Arthur gasps, and his hips finally start moving, rocking himself down on Eames’ hand, and this is what Eames knows. Like this, Eames knows where to touch and where to press and how far he has to push to make Arthur scream.

Eames pulls back so he can look down at Arthur, squirming on Eames’ fingers and spreading his legs wide apart. There’s lube everywhere, slicking the insides of Arthur’s thighs and dripping onto the sheets, and Eames pushes a third finger in and curls them just right, grinning when Arthur arches up into it. “There’s my good boy,” he says, twisting his fingers just to hear Arthur beg.

“Fuck me,” Arthur moans.

Someday, every night will end with mornings just like this, Arthur warm and sleepy, in his bed and in his arms. Someday, Eames really will give him everything, but until then, there is today, and Eames hooks Arthur's knees on his shoulders and fucks him. Arthur bends when Eames pushes, smiling up at him and taking whatever Eames has to give. Eames comes, gasping promises of forever into Arthur's neck, a future that Arthur can finally see. Someday, all of it will be theirs to share, but for right now, this is enough.

When they come back down, Arthur wants to curl up under the covers and go back to sleep, but Eames tells him it’s time to get up. Arthur starts to pout, but Eames leans in and kisses him before he can object. “We have the entire day ahead of us,” he says when he pulls away. “There’s plenty of time for a nap later, but right now I want to make you breakfast.”

Arthur grumbles, but lets Eames drag him out of bed and into the bathroom. He stops complaining when Eames pushes him up against the tile and wraps a hand around his cock, jerking him under the hot spray, propping Arthur's boneless weight against the wall when he comes, sobbing into Eames' neck.

After they shower, Eames leaves Arthur in the bedroom to get dressed so he can start breakfast. He’s halfway through mixing up the batter for pancakes when Arthur comes into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of obscenely short denim cutoffs that cling to his thighs like a second skin.

Arthur wanders across the room and stands next to Eames at the counter, peering into the mixing bowl. Eames looks pointedly down at Arthur’s shorts and raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Arthur asks with a smirk. “You love these shorts. You couldn’t stop staring at my ass in them all last summer.”

“Ah, yes, how could I forget. But I’m fairly certain they weren’t quite so snug last year,” Eames says, as he pushes the bowl aside and pulls Arthur into his arms, sliding his hands down over his denim clad arse. “If they had been, I wouldn’t have had to use my imagination when I spent all those nights thinking about what what you looked like underneath.”

Arthur winds his arms around Eames’ neck and grins up at him. “I’m bigger than I was then.”

Eames slides his hands under Arthur’s arse and lifts him easily. Arthur’s comfortable in Eames’ arms after getting picked up just like this so many times, and he wraps his legs around Eames’ waist and holds on.

“You still feel little to me,” Eames says and kisses him.

Eames pulls back when Arthur starts moaning into his mouth, and he sets Arthur down on the counter and picks up his spoon. “Pancakes,” he insists.

Arthur kicks his feet against the cabinets and chatters away while Eames cooks. They eat pancakes together at the table, and Eames listens as Arthur talks about his upcoming SATs and how his teachers keep scheduling exams the same week, and he’s just going to die if he doesn’t get a break from all of this studying.

When they’re finished, Eames pushes his chair back from the table in unspoken invitation. Arthur smiles and hops out of his seat, straddling Eames’ thighs and settling into his lap.

“You’ve only got a few weeks left of school, then you’re free,” Eames says, pushing Arthur’s hair out of his face.

“Maybe not,” Arthur says with a long suffering sigh. “My mom wants me to get a job this summer.”

“You’re kidding,” Eames deadpans. “How could she suggest such a thing. You’re her only son.”

“Don’t tell me you’re on her side,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes at Eames and then perking up. “I guess I could always spend the summer mowing lawns. There’s a lot of people in this neighborhood. Maybe you’re not the only one who likes my shorts.”

Eames grins and digs his fingers into Arthur’s hips, pulling him closer. “On second thought, I think it’s a dreadful idea. Surely there are child labor laws to protect someone as young and innocent as you.”

Arthur leans in and presses his forehead to Eames’. “Besides, I have other plans for my summer.”

“Hmm, do these plans involve you lounging around on my couch, playing video games, wearing nothing but one of my shirts, eating all the food and waiting for me to get home from work?”

“Is that a problem?” Arthur asks softly, his breath hot on Eames’ face.

“Absolutely not.”

Arthur’s lips are sticky with maple syrup, and this time Eames doesn’t pull away when Arthur turns the kiss wet and filthy. Soon he’s squirming in Eames’ lap and whimpering into his mouth. Eames lifts Arthur out of his lap and spins him around, pushing him down on the table. Arthur dissolves in a fit of giggles when Eames struggles to peel off his skintight shorts, but his laugh turns into a moan when Eames pushes his fingers in where Arthur is still all wet and open.

Eames fucks Arthur bent over the table, draped over his back so he can whisper in his ear, knowing just what to say to make him come apart. It’s fast and dirty and _perfect_ , and when Arthur comes, Eames lets the familiar clench of Arthur’s body so tight around his cock draw the orgasm out of him.

“Are you going to do the dishes?” Eames murmurs in Arthur’s ear as he catches his breath. It’s barely nine o’clock in the morning and Arthur’s already come three times. The only thing keeping him from sliding onto the floor is Eames’ arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up.

Arthur laughs breathlessly, his cheek pressed into the table. “I was thinking it’s time for that nap you promised me.”

“Alright then,” Eames says, easing Arthur into a chair and then turning around and crouching down in front of him. “Climb on, little boy.”

Arthur wraps his hands around Eames’ neck and Eames hoists Arthur onto his back, hooking his hands under his thighs to hold him up. Eames carries Arthur out to the living room, leaning back over the sofa and letting Arthur plop down onto the cushions. He kneels down next to him, and brushes Arthur’s hair off his sweaty forehead. “Did you know that you’re terribly spoiled?”

“Yes,” Arthur says, grinning up at Eames and trying to pull him down onto the couch, but Eames breaks free of his grip.

“Someone has to do the dishes, and it’s not going to be you.”

When the kitchen is clean, Eames finds Arthur sprawled out on the couch with the TV on. He’s managed to wriggle his way back into his shorts, and he sits up so Eames can slide in behind him, then settles back against his chest.

“What are you watching?” Eames asks, tracing his fingers over the smooth skin of Arthur’s belly.

“Nothing really,” Arthur says, craning his neck up and nuzzling his face under Eames’ chin. “What are we going to do today?”

Eames smiles and presses a kiss to the top of Arthur’s head. “Anything you want.”

Maybe they won’t remember this day when they look back. Someday, pancakes for breakfast and lazy mornings curled up on the couch will be a day just like any other, ordinary and unremarkable. Someday, this will be their every day, but until then, Eames pulls Arthur in a little closer and holds onto everything they have.


End file.
